


Forbidden Love

by VesuvianPancake



Series: Forbidden Love [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: M/M, Original Characters - Freeform, Original Fiction, Original Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 07:50:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19372402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VesuvianPancake/pseuds/VesuvianPancake
Summary: This is a prologue :)





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prologue :)

“Alright, kids!” Mother called from the living room. “It’s time to go!”

 

My brothers and sisters shoved around just to get out of our bedroom and down the stairs. Our mother watched as they piled on top of each other, while Fiona and I walked around them. We headed downstairs and stood next to Mother.

 

“Bia! Calais! Get off of Diana and Euryale and let’s go!” Father shouted

 

Bia and Calais did what they were told and held hands, leaping down the stairs. Diana and Euryale stood up and followed.

 

“Alright,” Mother said. “Everyone, be good. We’re going to Turkey for Easter. Don’t be a nuisance. I’m looking at you two, Bia and Calais.” 

 

I snickered behind my hand. Fiona nudged me.

 

“Will we make it in time for Easter?” Diana asked. “It’s April 9th!!”

 

“It takes nine days to get there,” I said. “If we make it with no problem, we’ll be there by the 18th and be there for Easter.”

 

Fiona patted my head. “Good job, Ambie,” she whispered to me.

 

“Ugh, alright. . .” Diana crossed her arms and turned her head away.

 

“So we’re all ready,” Bia grabbed her partner-in-crime’s hand. “Let’s go!”


	2. Plagued (Part 1)

The past nine days were pretty uneventful. Bia and Calais were on their best behavior, Diana was fussy most of the time about either being hungry or being tired. Calais was more than helpful on the trip, and I did mostly nothing with Fiona. By the time we got to Turkey, it was about noon.

 

“Hey, guys!” Mother said.

 

“Get in the house! Quick!” my aunt hissed, stepping to the side so we can get in. “Ambrose first! Hurry!”

 

“Why?” I asked, rushing inside.

 

“There’s a plague going around. . . I don’t want any of you guys catching it. Especially you, Ambrose.”

 

“Ohhh. . .” we all said. 

 

The rest of my family headed inside. I sat on a pillow by the window and stared out of it. The grass in front of my aunt's cottage was still as green as it always was. The flowers were blooming, and it looked peaceful. The only thing that ruined it was the loud moaning coming from the city nearby. I turned to my aunt.

 

“What are the symptoms of the plague?” I asked.

 

“You’ve felt most of them before,” she answered. “Fevers, chills, sweating, etc.”

 

“Most of them?” I stood up. “There's more?”

 

“Much more. You get swollen lymph nodes on the neck, armpits, etc.”

 

“... is that all?”

 

“Black lumps on the skin, and… I believe that's it.”

 

I gulped. This plague sounded terrible. I sat back down on the pillow.

 

“What…” I muttered. “What do they do to the bodies?”

 

My aunt turned away. “They… they burn them. In the fire in the center of the city. It's best to do it at night, bring a torch so you can avoid touching infected people.”

 

I hadn't realized that my family was listening. They all had horrified looks on their faces.

 

“How does it spread?” Mother asked. 

 

“Touching an infected person or their body fluids,” my aunt answered.

 

“Body fluids as in blood and spit and stuff?” Calais asked.

 

“Exactly,” my aunt answered. “Even touching their clothes is enough to get you infected.”

 

“I don't like this,” I said. I looked around. “... where's Uncle Ajax?”

 

My aunt sniffled. “Died. Bubonic plague.”

 

“Oh, no!” Father cried. “When? Where?”

 

“On the streets. He caught the plague while going out to get food. He never came back. It spread too quickly and killed him instantly.”

 

I got up and ran upstairs. I headed into the bedroom where I always slept when visiting my aunt and slammed the door behind me. I leaned on the door, my back against the wood. “Damn…” I muttered. “I'm going to die…”


	3. Plagued (Part 2)

“How did this happen?” I heard my mother ask.

 

“I don't know…” Father replied. “But don't touch him.”

 

“But-- Jason…” Mother said. “We can't just do nothing! All of our kids have the plague!”

 

“If they survive, then great,” Father said. “But for Ambrose, I have no faith. The plague is a killer. Ambrose will die.”

 

Hearing my father say those words would've made me cry, but it was pointless. I knew I would die. I just didn't know when or what of. I willed myself, almost forced myself to speak, but it came out as a desperate, strained moan. Mother turned to me.

 

“Ambrose, honey, you'll be okay,” she said.

 

I strained myself to speak, but I just had to say something. “No…” I managed to say. “I-I won't be okay…”

 

“Ambrose, don't say that…” 

 

“It's the truth. I can't-” I turned away and coughed. “I can't survive this… I won't survive this…”

 

Father sighed and took Mother’s hand. “He already knows,” he said. “Let’s just go.”

 

I heard my mother sob as they both left the room. I stared up at the ceiling and sighed. “Death is inevitable for me now, I guess…” I closed my eyes and tried to rest. After that, everything was just a blur. When I woke up, all I saw was a bright light and a bunch of angels flying around. I looked down. I saw Earth. I had just died. I looked in a river at my reflection. My once black hair had turned to a quite nice shade of auburn. My pale, almost white skin was now tanned, like a Greek's  _should_ be. My grayish blue eyes were now a vivid violet. I was... well...  _beautiful_! I had ivory wings with tints of red at the tips. I was extremely fond of them. I fluttered them twice. 

 

"I could get used to this," I said.


	4. Encounter

After a few days, I had gotten a bit used to Heaven. I guess it was fine. I watched my family have a funeral for me, which was a bit awkward. I was tempted to go down there and say “HEY, I’M AN ANGEL NOW! YOU CAN STILL SEE ME!”, but I was told by someone else that only Orthodoxes, Catholics, priests, demons, Satan, and God can see and hear me, which was really unfortunate. I would love for my family to see and hear me. I considered writing something in ink right in front of them on some paper, but then they would freak out and ruin the paper with hot tea or water, so I eventually gave up on trying. I’ve wandered around the world for a while, meeting a bunch of priests who asked me questions like “Are you a new angel?” or “What are you doing here?”. I never answered them, though. I know it’s rude, but I’m not particularly fond of questions. I wandered through Europe for a few hundred years until in 1564, I made it to London. I don’t know why I chose London, but I decided to settle there. I was somehow able to buy a nice cottage in the woods near a chapel by the village. There were also some really nice Catholic kids who I frequently visited and played games with in the summer. After a while, a bunch of angels asked if I wanted to be promoted from guardian angel to destiny angel. It was tempting, but just watching these people in London was enough for me. I declined and stayed around in London.

One winter evening in London, I was inside the chapel by the window in total silence, minus the candles flickering by the windows. My wings instinctively wrapped around my body. It was freezing in the church.

 

“Dammit…” I muttered. “I forgot how harsh Earth is…” 

 

Suddenly, I felt a strange energy… a dark energy… a dark cloud hovering outside the chapel. I stood up and made my way to the window. I moved the candle out of the way and stood on my toes to peer out. No one. At least no one visible… I climbed out the window and landed in the fluffy white snow. The blizzard made it difficult to see anything. He made his way around the chapel, the dark energy growing stronger and stronger with every step, then he found the source- a demon perched on a tree branch right above the church’s steeple.

 

“Who are you?” I asked. 

 

“We’re all the same to you, aren’t we?” the demon smirked, sliding off the branch and hovering down onto the snow. “Except that some aren’t.”

 

“Mmm… fair enough. Goodnight, then.” I turned and left without saying anything more.

 

“What’s the matter?” the demon sneered. “Too much of a chicken to talk to me?”

 

I ignored him and headed off to my house. I opened the door and headed inside. “God…” I mumbled. “If this is a test, make it quick…”


	5. A Nice Name

The next day, it had stopped snowing. The sun was out and I was having a fun time making snow angels and snowmen with the children from the nearby village. They were Catholic, so they could see me. It was all fine until I sensed the same strange energy from yesterday. I flapped my wings to get the snow out of my wings. I turned to the kids.

 

“Run home, there’s someone here. Someone you should not see.” I said softly. The kids scampered home without asking any questions. I watched them go, and when they were a good distance away, I said, “I know you’re there.”

 

“Ah, good, you’re not a complete airhead as I thought you to be,” the demon said, as he stepped out into the open, smirking. The large set of black feathered wings he had, folded against his back and as dark as pitch, were actually visible and only made him seem more intimidating. Though it intimidated me, I wasn’t scared. “You angels are sentimental, aren’t you?” he asked, his smirk widening. “Caring for humans, even though they’re gone as soon as you can blink.”

 

“Is that wrong?” I tilted my head to the side and crossed my arms. “It’s a good thing to do, right? Oh, wait. You don’t know what that means, do you?” I sneered.

 

The demon took a step closer, a sharp fang gleaming under his smile. “Correct, and I probably never will. It’s pretty useless, being attached to something that lives so shortly.”

 

“You have a point,” I said. “But I prefer to cherish things. It’s more fun that way.” I glanced at the nearby village, it’s matching brown brick houses and tan roofs covered in snow, making it look like a winter wonderland. “You wouldn’t understand, of course.”

 

“And I don’t want to understand your pathetic little thing you call ‘emotion’,” he said. “So it is quite fair.”

 

“Oh, well.” I sighed. “You’re right.”

 

“I always am, sweetheart.” he grinned. “You angels and your dickhead of a God just never realized it when Luci-lu got the boot.”

 

I glared at him. “What..?”

 

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re hard of hearing as well as brickheaded,” the demon grinned. He seemed to do a lot of grinning… “I’m talking loud enough, aren’t I?”

 

“... sounds like you’re picking a fight with me,” I said, my wings unfurling.

 

“I do love a good fight!” the demon cackled. “C’mon, hit me with your best shot!”

 

I growled and summoned a sword with a thick, golden blade, then wielded it in front of me. “Hope you’re ready,” I muttered. “Asshole…” 

 

“More than ready to dance,” he answered. “Question is; are you ~?” 

 

Was that…  _ flirting _ ? With a nonchalant flick of his wrist, he produced a sword with a long black blade and a sharp edge.

 

“Alright, then. Let’s dance!” I lunged forward and attacked. Not to be vain, but I attacked gracefully and with pinpoint accuracy.

 

The demon didn’t move until I had came close enough to strike him. He parried my attack almost lazily, knocking it to the side. So much for accuracy…

 

I backed away. “Hmph… okay, then.”

 

“Given up already?” he grinned. “We’ve only barely started~!”

“I don’t give up,” I attacked again, missing on purpose.

 

“Good!” he laughed and blocked the hit again, and made a strike of his own. I felt a feather or two snip clean off of my wings. “I like to have a little fun.”

 

I scoffed and backed away. I don’t know what told me to keep trying, I was winded and gasping for air. Even though I was technically dead, my endurance was terrible. I took a deep breath and attacked as quickly as I could.

 

The demon seemed to be having a fun time. He stood still until the very last minute, when my blade came close enough to stab him in the throat, he vanished, leaving behind thin wisps of shadow. I landed face first in the snow, then sat up, looking around.

 

“DAMMIT!” I cried, looking around. “Where-- goddammit…”

 

“Was that a curse I heard?” the demon said, reappearing behind me and running his hand down my arm. Was he teasing me? It felt like it. “What a bad boy!”

 

I pulled my arm away. “Don’t touch me!”

 

“I just did, sweetheart.” he cackled.

 

I took a few steps forward and turned around. “Want to continue with the dance?” I raised my sword.

 

“Do  _ you _ ?” he answered, smirking. “After all, you’re the one struggling to breathe.”

 

“I’m fine,” I said. Why did I lie? I obviously wasn’t fine. I was wheezing with every breath. 

 

His face fell flat after a few moments. “You’re not.”

 

“I said I’m fine.” I took a few steps forward and turned around. It was enough effort just to lift my foot to take one step.

 

“I fight dirty, but I’m not low,” the demon said. “Rest, and we’ll meet again.” he shook out his wings and prepared to leave, but I felt his eyes glance at me as he said, “What’s your name?”

 

I was hesitant to answer, but I said, “Ambrose.” I shivered and wrapped my wings around my body. “And you are?”

“Lysandre, Prince of The Void.” he gave a sarcastic bow and stood back up.

 

Lysandre… huh. That name was quite nice. “That’s…” I muttered. “A nice name.” I smiled. “Well, good day, then.” I continued to walk home. I heard Lysandre’s wings flap as he turned and left in the opposite direction.


	6. Battle

I could hear it, even from how far away I was. Lysandre was in a nearby pub, telling jokes and, what sounded like, what happened to him recently. Lysandre sat at a back table that night, talking loud enough for everyone that sat with him and then some to hear him recount a story he'd been telling. I approached the bar to get a good listen.   
  
" . . . So Lucy, damn him, has the nerve to kick me out of the house! Or Hell, whatever you'd like to call it. Of course I wasn't pleased, so I declared; "Any place is better than this shit hole with you!" " There were mixed reactions, ranging from gasps to howling laughter. "And so he answers back: "It sounds like you need to cool off some. The heat's been getting to you a bit too much." and then he ships my ass off to here, for all my luck." Lys grinned as everyone around him laughed and pounded the table, but he was deadly aware of the few scowling patrons coming closer.   
  
"Alright, demon," One man, who Lys recounted as the priest of this town, though not currently wearing his typical habit. "You've caused us enough trouble, so demand that you leave us in peace."   
  
"Oh, but what have I done wrong, Father? The only sinful deed I've committed was maybe having a little spat with your precious guardian angel, but I swear I've been a good boy," said Lysandre, grinning. The priest, however, did not find it as funny.   
  
"Your very presence is a disturbance! You dare lurk outside our most holy grounds and goad on the angel that blesses us with his presence, and defile the name of God-"   
  
"I could care less what the old man has to say," He answered, picking at his nails. "He kicked me and Lucifer out the house long ago."   
  
The other man's face grew bright read, and he flew at Lys with clenched fists. Lys, on the other hand, just swatted him down, which enraged the lackeys the priest brought along with.   
  
And so this is how the infamous Prince of The Void started a bar fight.   
  


 

I opened the door to find the priest and Lysandre practically at each other's throats. Some customers were even cheering. I had to do something. I stepped in and stood in between them. “What in the HELL is going on?”

 

“Language, guardian angel!” the priest hissed. I grinned. I liked my pun. 

 

"For once, I was minding my own business," Lysandre remarked. "But he just thinks I'm a stain tarnishing the 'flawless' silver platter of God, just by existing." To the priest, he said: "Sorry, but as you know, God created me, just as you claim to be created by God as well." He grinned.

 

"Mmhm. I doubt that, but alright." I turned to the priest "Now why are  _ you _ in a bar?"

 

The priest started to speak, but Lysandre interrupted. It was rude, but honestly, do you think he cares? "Wait, you doubt what?"

 

"That you were minding your own business." I turned to Lys. "I feel like you were just trying to get the priest's attention."

 

One man from his table cleared his throat and spoke up. "Nah, we can actually vouch for him- He tells a pretty damn good story!" He and the others laughed, and Lysandre grinned.   
  
"See? I'm not  _ always _ a troublemaker." he said.

 

". . . uh-huh." I turned to leave "Well, everything seems okay now, so I'll go."

 

"I might as well leave too, since apparently the entirety of my existence is offensive to him," He said, gesturing to the priest. "I'll see you all around!" He waved to the others, and walked out with me.

 

I turned to Lys upon discovering that he was following me. “. . . hey.”

 

"Hello." Lys just ruffled his wings, taking a few long steps to catch up with him.

 

“How’ve you been?” I asked, fluttering around him in circles. “Destroy a village yet?”

 

"Unfortunately, no, not yet." Lysandre said, grinning. "Otherwise, I've been alright. Could've been better. And you? Converted any kids to worshiping God yet?"

 

“No.” I continued to flutter around him. “So what are you doing now?”

 

"Why, simply making conversation! Or am I not allowed to?"

 

"No, you're allowed to." I landed down on the snow "You want to finish that dance from earlier?" I smirked.

 

Lys glanced at him, genuinely surprised. "I'm interested."

 

"Alright, then." my sword appeared in my left hand.

 

Lysandre made no move to summon a weapon yet. "Go ahead."

 

". . . A-Are you sure?" I tilted my head to the side.

 

"If I wasn't," He began, "Would I allow you to?"

 

I supposed that made sense. Islowly lifted my sword “O-Okay. . ." I leaped up and attacked from the air, and again, just moments before the blade would've landed, Lysandre raised his hand and blocked, not with a sword or any other weapon, but a shield that shimmered and disappeared into curls of smoke after impact. "Predictable, as always," Lysandre tsked.

 

I pouted. “Not fair!” I attacked again.

 

He grinned. "Not fair? How's it not fair then? I haven't even cheated yet." Lys moved out of the way, still refusing to bear a weapon.

 

_ 'Dammit, I'm winded again. . .' _ I backed away, taking deep breaths "fair enough. . ."

 

"Of course I'm right. And you're exhausted again," Lys pointed out, though it was obvious.

 

I rolled my eyes. “So what? I don't-” I turned away to cough. “I don't care if I'm exhausted.”

 

"That sounds pretty reckless to me. But if you truly don't, then continue."

 

I attacked, but it was a weak swing and I missed terribly. I landed in the snow,  wheezing and struggling to breathe.

 

"Well done," Lysandre applauded sarcastically. He crouched down next to me and ran his fingers through the feathers of my wings.

 

I shivered slightly and stared at him. “What are you doing…?”

 

"I was simply curious." He stopped and instead took me by the arm, bringing me onto my feet.

 

". . . alright. . ." my face was red from both Lys touching my sensitive wings and from the lack of oxygen I was receiving.

 

“Still wish to continue?” Lys asked.

 

“No, thanks.” I shook my head.

 

"Okay then. Maybe you should go on home, then," Lys murmured quietly.

 

“I don't want to…” I looked down at the snow.

 

"Then don't, simply. Do as you like."

 

_ ‘... I’d like to kiss you,’  _ I thought.

 

Lys stood there and said nothing, which was rare. Can he read minds?! I felt my face get hot as I hid behind my wings.  _ ‘I'm an idiot…’  _ I thought.

 

"You're very easy to read, you know," He finally said out of nowhere.

 

I peeked through my wings "I'm aware…”

 

"Good. So you understand I can tell exactly what you're thinking."

 

I blushed redder. “Yeah, I understand…”

 

He stood still for a few more moments, then took a step forward and tilted Ambrose's face up with his hand. "You want this."

 

I nodded once, but stayed silent. 

 

"Even though it's very, very wrong." Lysandre gave a dry laugh. "Oh, little angel, you know nothing . . . "

 

"I know it's wrong, but I want it." I backed away "Which is a problem…”

 

"Whatever," Lysandre finally growled after minutes of unbearable silence. "Stay ignorant, for all I care. I have other things to do."

 

“... fine, then.” I turned and flew off.


	7. Threatened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THIS.  
> PLEASE.  
> Now it's in a general perspective. Third person. Hell yeah.

Damn all to Hell- Never, could Lysandre ever get something he wanted, and this time, after he pissed off Ambrose to the point he left, especially hurt. He wanted to kick something- take out his frustration in one go and beat something into a bloody pulp, but there was just nothing around that would suffice.   
  
Well, maybe except for one.   
  
Which was exactly the reason why Lys perched on the windowsill of the priest's home, just outside his bedroom window. He could look inside easily, spying the man sleep so peacefully and unaware of what would happen very, very soon.   
  
Just as he was about to crack open the window, Lysandre turned his head, hearing wingbeats above him, and the soft tap of feet landing on the roof.   
  
"Go away. This doesn't concern you, and I'd like to keep it that way, unless if you proved to be an issue," He said flatly.

 

"Don't hurt the priest, and I'll leave." he leaped off the roof and floated down onto the snow.

 

His answer was simple. "No."

 

"Then I won't leave." he blocked the window with his wings.

 

"You could barely stand in one of our previous 'fights'," Lysandre stated. "You wouldn't last more than ten seconds when I'm actually trying. So leave, and I'll let you remain unscathed."

 

" _ No _ ." he leaned against the wall. "I won't leave."

 

"Then it's not my fault if anything happens to you." He jumped from the roof to right in front of him.

 

"Whatever." he braced himself for what was to come.

 

He readied his weapon, fully prepared to sprint forward, until something just felt like it broke inside of him.   
  
" . . . I can't fight you," He whispered.

 

". . . but-- you- you're confusing--" He leaned against the wall and slid down onto the snow. “Damn. . ."

 

"I'm sorry-" Lys started to back away and leave, expanding his wings to take flight. 

 

Ambrose froze and scrambled onto his feet. "Lysandre, wait!" he spread his wings and flew towards him. 

 

He curved his wings inward to slow himself down, and hung back. " . . . Yes?"

 

"D-Don't go. . ."  _ 'Shit, am I crying?' _

 

"I shouldn't stay here," Lysandre said. "But-- if you don't want me to leave, then . . . I won't."

 

". . . thanks." he folded his wings.

 

Lys just didn't know how to react, and stood there quietly.  _ 'It's too quiet. . .' _ Ambrose thought. He hid behind his wings, staying quiet ". . ."

 

Lys might've actually said something, until the door to the priest's house flew open and the man came out, wide-eyed and bearing a weapon.   
  
"You!" He seethed at Lysandre. "Come to taunt me again? Stand out of the way, angel; I'll make sure he's taken care of efficiently."

 

He turned around to the priest "No, no, no! Don't hurt him!"

 

He just stared, before lifting his musket and pointing it at him anyway. "Don't tell me he's corrupted your mind- Even more reason to end his existence!"

 

"He didn't! And if he did, so what??" he was about to lose it, but he kept his cool. "Is… is that wrong?"

 

"He's a demon! Of course it is!"

 

"So?!" He cleared his throat "so what if he's a demon? I'm fine with it."

 

The priest's eyes narrowed, and he remained to the both of them, "Lord, forgive . . . " He sighed. "You're leaving me no choice!"   
  
"Do not;" Lysandre growled. "--Point that mere toy at him."   
  
"This is no-"   
  
" _ QUIET _ !!" His wings flared, and he protectively wrapped his arms around Ambrose. "I don't give a flying fuck about what you have to say. You will not shoot him, and I will make sure of that."   
  
The other man's eyes widened in terror, and eventually he lowered his arms to his side, stood square-shouldered, and said: "Then leave. This town never needed you or that angel lurking around."

 

"If I weren't here, this town would be in shambles." he glared at him, trying to look angry, but he felt hurt inside. "So put the gun down."

 

"Then it's a risk we're willing to take."   
  
Lysandre growled. "Are you done yet?"   
  
"Yes. Leave."   
  
So Lys gave him one last glare and took to the sky.

 

Ambrose followed far behind, trying his hardest not to cry.  _ ‘What the hell…?’ _ he thought.  _ ‘What… what do I do…?’ _

 

"I'm sorry," Lys repeated again, after a while. "I've caused so much trouble around here-"

 

"It's alright," Ambrose replied. He caught up to Lys "Uh. . . where are you going now?"

 

"I don't know," He admitted. "Anywhere. Far from where I can fuck up any more people's lives."

 

"Honestly, I think it was more of my fault," he stopped.

 

"It's not. You're made to be perfect." His voice was flat, expression unyielding of emotion.   
  
"Yeah, sure. Perfection's where it's at." he looked away.

 

"Meaning," He grimaced. "You don't make mistakes. Like I did."

 

"I've made mistakes." He glared at him. "I know how to sin."

 

All Lys gave in response was a skeptical pfft.    
  
As if Ambrose had any idea.

 

". . . alright, then." He flew past him. "See you, then."

 

"Maybe." He could be gone for all he knew. Maybe Lucy would come back and allow him in the house again. And after a while of watching Ambrose until he was just a distant speck, Lys shook his head and went home.


	8. Apologies

Months later, Ambrose finally came back to that village where that lousy priest lived and did a pretty good job of avoiding him. he sat by some trees, daydreaming, until. . . ". . . hmm. . ." he looked around, sensing Lysandre nearby.

 

"You've gotten sharper, I'll give you that," drawled Lysandre, quite lazily, feigning a tone of pure boredom. "But hopefully the way you fight has improved as well. It's dreadful."

 

"Probably not," was his response. 

 

"Mmph." Was his simple reply. A very Lysandre-like thing to do.

 

He flopped on his side. "What are you doing here, anyway? Haven't seen you since winter."

 

"I had nowhere else to go." He shrugged. "Lucifer took me back for a while, then kicked me out again, saying some shit about how I'm too old to stay boarded up in the house."

 

"Unfortunate." He rolled onto his stomach "Hope you find a place to live, I guess."

 

"Actually-" He slightly rolled his shoulders. "I was wondering if I could stay with you for a little while. To get used to all of this again."

 

". . . I mean. . ." He shrugged "Sure, alright." He pushed himself off the ground.

 

“Thanks,” Lysander muttered.

 

"You're welcome, I guess." He spread his wings "I'm going home now, so. . . c'mon."

 

"Cool with me," Lys said, and followed; his wings slightly brushing against the ground.

 

He started walking a few steps and then flew off. "Let's go."

 

;w;   
With just one beat of his wings, which seemed like they had gotten even larger since the last time, Lys was in the air and caught up easily.    
  
If it were the same as last winter, he might've made conversation. But Ambrose seemed so much more quieter and reserved, that for once Lysandre didn't make a sarcastic comment and kept his words to himself.

 

After a few minutes of flying, they arrived at Ambrose's house. He landed in front of the door “Alright, we're here." He opened the door. 

 

"I see that," He remarked, and subconsciously shook his wings out before entering.

 

He didn't say anything, he just went to the living room and sat there. "Make yourself at home…" At least he was still kind…

 

Lys nodded, but only perched on the edge of a chair by the window, staring outside demurely.

 

Ambrose ruffled his feathers, but for the most part, stayed quiet. He wasn't in quite the mood for socializing. Even he didn't know what was up.

 

Finally, he said something.    
  
"You changed. How come?"

 

He turned to Lys for a moment, then looked away ". . . remember when the priest almost killed us?"

 

"Like yesterday," He said bitterly. "I told him that you weren't part of the problem, yet he aimed at you and your stupid feathery ass anyway for trying to defend me."

 

"Well, there's your answer. Happy?" He hid behind his wings and sighed.

 

"That's not an answer. It doesn't explain why you're like this now."

 

"The priest fucking  _ threatened _ me!" his wings flared up a bit "All I did was try to keep you safe!”

 

" _ I'm not the one you need to protect _ !" Lysandre shouted. "I'm the one you should be afraid of- I could snap and wipe out an entire goddamn town, if I so even please! You're to protect the people- townsfolk- not a fucking demon," He hissed, and sunk back down in the chair.

 

"Well, I chose to! I don't care who it is, what they are, I protect them!" He stood up and stormed out of the living room. He made his way to his basement. 

 

Lys sprang back up and tried to reach for Ambrose's wrist, but his hand only encircled empty air, just too late. "Dammit . . . " he choked out, and after standing for a good few moments, turned out his heel and went outside, wings flaring.

 

When Ambrose made it to the basement, he fell to his knees. "Oh, God. . ." He choked back a sob. “I just yelled at him…" He covered his mouth with his hands and silently cried.

 

Pure guilt made his trip outside very short, and silently, Lysandre leaned heavily against the doorway as he was transported through the curls of shadow that still rippled around him. He didn't know what he could say to make things better- but seeing Ambrose cry fucking hurt.

 

He hid behind his wings, sniffling quietly "Go away." his voice was shaky.

 

He didn't.   
  
Instead, Lys sat on the ground and hesitantly wrapped his arms around him and pulled him closer.

 

". . . sorry I yelled at you. . ." Ambrose wiped his eyes and sighed. "And for being a bit of a dick."

 

"You had reason," He stated, calm and quietly. "I started it, after all."

 

"I'm still sorry. . ." He scooted away a few inches.

 

"I'm sorry too." Judging by how  he moved away, Lysandre took this as his sign for him to leave him be, and began to stand up.

 

He looked up at him, but said nothing. He looked away again and hid behind his wings.

 

" Just tell me if you need me to stay..." Lys said.

 

". . . p-please stay. . ." He peeked through his wings. 

 

Lys nodded, and took his place back on the floor, but a respectable distance away, to give him room.

 

". . . you can come closer, I'm okay now." he offered a small smile.

 

"If you say so." He crept forward, and wrapped his massive wings around both of them.

 

He glanced up at him "Lysandre, I-- Uhm. . ." He looked away, blushing.

 

He scoffed, but in relief. "You're still such an open book. I can tell what you want to say- want to do . . . "

 

". . . then what do I want to do?"

 

"You want to kiss me. It's in your eyes, plain as day."

 

". . . yeah, pretty much." His face flushed redder. "Dammit. . ."

 

"No cursing," Lys teased. "That's only for me to do." He leaned closer, and gently kissed Ambrose as lightly as he could.

 

". . . I can curse if i want to. . ." He crossed his arms.

 

"Nope. Not if I say so."

 

". . . fuck you." Ambrose turned away.

 

“Love you, too.” Lysandre smiled.


	9. Bedtime

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING- THIS CONTAINS EXPLICIT MATERIAL. IT'S SPICY.  
> READ IT IF YOU WANT TO READ THE SPICY.

"Fuck you. Again." Ambrose hid behind his wings.

 

"Alright then ~!" Lysandre scooped Ambrose into his arms effortlessly, and guessed where the bedroom was. It's not hard- when he got there, he immediately just dumped him onto the bed. Ambrose said nothing. Instead, he lied there staring at Lysandre.

 

"... You do need to get undressed, you know, for this to go anywhere."

 

"I'm working on it..." he sat up and undressed. Meanwhile, it took little effort for Lys, and soon he was down to just pants.

 

Ambrose studied his body. He was tall and had lean muscle- the kind of body that Ambrose liked. He grinned. "You ready, or..."

 

Out of the blue, Lysandre asks: "Is this your first time?"

 

"Yeah, why?" he tilted his head to the side.

 

"Ah, how'd I know." he chuckled. "It may- no, it will- be uncomfortable, and will hurt, for your first."

 

"Eh, I'm fine with pain." Ambrose crossed his arms.

 

"Masochist."

 

"Oh, hush! Why, is that wrong, too?"

 

"I never said it was."

 

"Alright, then... what now?"

 

"You get the easy part. Just sit back and I'll do the work." Lysandre smirked.

 

"Alright..." he sat there awkwardly.

 

Lys took his time, even humming as he took off both Ambrose's pants and his own. "Still sure ~?"

 

"I'm sure." he smirked.

 

"Alright- but don't complain." He can't have all the pleasure, though, and bent over Ambrose's dick, lazily stroking it with one hand.

 

Ambrose gasped lightly and covered his mouth with one hand. "L-Lysandre...--"

 

"This sensitive? I've barely done anything, sweetheart ~" he grinned.

 

"Just... shut up and keep going..."

 

"I can do even better." Of course he can- so he pressed a small kiss to the very head of it, then took it back easily into his throat. Not as if it was difficult.

 

He let out a soft hum, then he squeaked. "Ah ~! Lysandre..."

 

He didn't answer and he continued at the same lazy pace as before, going slow entirely just to tease and torture him.

 

"Ah-- You're just trying to make me suffer, aren't you?" Ambrose managed to say.

 

He stopped briefly. "Yes I am."

 

"... damn..."

 

As a punishment for swearing, Lys nipped at the inside of his thigh. "Bad ~"

 

A small moan escaped his lips. "s-shit..."

 

He did it again, but lighter this time. "I think I'm done playing for now. Shall we get to business?"

 

"... yeah..." Ambrose muttered.

 

Lys grinned, and quickly flipped Ambrose onto his stomach. "That's what I like to hear."

 

"Oh shit-- okay, we're doing this now." Ambrose's wings twitched lightly.

 

"Is that not what I've been trying to do the entire time?" Lys asked, lightly stroking Ambrose's wings.

 

"Yeah. Sorry." Ambrose smirked. "Carry on."

 

"No need to apologize."  But damn, is he always prepared. Lys hunted around in the pocket of his jacket and fished out a bottle of lube, and poured a generous amount onto his fingers.

Ambrose turned around to see what he was doing. "... smart."

 

"No, just ready for anything." he smirked. "Now lay back down."

 

He lied back down, ready for whatever was going to come next. 

 

With his other hand, Lys spread his ass, and only then tauntingly drew one wet finger around Ambrose's entrance.

 

Ambrose trembled, then let out a small moan. "Dammit. . . you could be a little rougher, you know..."

 

"That's to come later," Lys said calmly. "But damn, you're already moaning, and I haven't even gone inside yet."

 

"Well,  _SORRY_ for being sensitive."

 

Lysandre chuckled. "Apologies. I'll stop being such a tease, then."

 

"Thanks," he grinned.

 

Lys didn't wait any longer as he promised, and pushed his finger in with a slight wiggle. "Damn... you're so tight..."

 

"Ah- fuck. . . Lysandre..." He buried his face in the bed sheets, stifling the rest of his moans.

 

He smirked at him. "What did I say about cursing?" He curled his fingers.

 

He huffed. "Fuck you."

 

" _I'm_ the one fucking you." Lys added a third soon after that.

 

He let out a few moans. "Damn. . ."

 

"Indeed ~." Lys finally stopped and wiped off his hands. "Still want this?"

 

"... yes, please." At least he said please.

 

"Alright. Don't complain tomorrow." Lysandre pressed a kiss to the base of Ambrose's neck, and lined himself up. "But, you're welcome to tell me when to stop any time ~."

 

"Don't stop..." he smirked.'

 

"You asked for it." He shoved himself in, without hesitation, cursing under his breath from how tight Ambrose still was.

 

"Ah,  _fuck_ ~!" He covered his mouth, stifling a very loud moan.

 

He just felt so fucking good... "A-Ah...~ everything okay?"

 

"Yeah, everything's fine... it just feels good..." Ambrose managed to say.

 

"It'll feel even better," Lys promised, and gave a slow thrust.'

 

Ambrose let out a long moan. "Ahhhh...~ shit..."

 

"There's no way to stop you from cursing, is there," Lys remarked lightly, even though he was already softly panting.

 

"N-Nope..." he sighed. "Y-You could go a little faster, you know..."

 

"Contrary to what most think, I so like going slow," Lysandre said.

 

"... okay," Ambrose sighed. "Can you go a little harder...?"

 

"Aww- my fragile widdle angel's saying I can rough him up some ~?" he ran a finger down his back.

 

Ambrose shivered and buried his flushed red face in the bed sheets. "Yes..."

 

"I'm surprised you didn't give me shit for calling you fragile." but he complied, and drew himself out a little bit, just to  _slam_ back forward.

 

"AH~! L-Lysandre... dammit..." he panted lightly.

 

Lys himself had to stop- it was rough even on him. "Damn..." he muttered. "At least your moaning is beautiful... angelic, even."

 

"Hmmmph... no angel puns, please..." Ambrose grumbled, his voice muffled by the bed sheets.

 

"Aw, don't be like that..." he bent over and gave him a kiss before continuing.

 

"A-Ah~! F-Faster... please..." he begged, panting harder.

 

"Fiiiine," Lys said, and started to move again, faster and harder than before.

 

"Thanks-- AH, FUCK~ !" he gripped the bed sheets, letting out a moan for every time he pounded into him. it was actually starting to hurt, but. . . the pain felt good.

 

It was only a matter of time before Lys started getting sloppy with the timing of his thrusts, and soon felt too close to his climax. "Ambrose-"

 

"what...?" He was very out of breath.

 

"I-I'm... too close... I want to know if it's okay if I... uh..." he sounded embarrassed.

 

"I-It's okay..." Ambrose knew what he meant. "Go ahead."

 

Lysandre sighed and let it out, causing Ambrose to let out one final moan as he did so. He then pulled out of Ambrose and flopped next to him. "Did... did you like it?"

 

Ambrose nodded, his head still buried in the sheets.

 

He wrapped an arm around his waist and draped a wing over them both, softly nuzzling his neck. "I'm glad."

 

He inched closer to Lysandre and gave him a peck on the cheek. "Good." he smiled.

 

Lysandre smiled and kissed him on the lips. Ambrose hummed softly, kissing him back and wrapping an arm around Lysandre's neck. They pulled away, panting lightly.

 

"I love you," Lysandre said. 

 

"I love you, too." Ambrose replied.

 

Lysandre ruffled Ambrose's hair and wrapped the blankets around them both. "Wanna take a little  _siesta_?"

 

"Sure, why not?" Ambrose answered. Come to think of it, he was pretty tired...

 

Lysandre lied down and pulled Ambrose close to him. Ambrose nuzzled his chest and let out a sigh. "Sleep well," he said before dozing off in Lysandre's arms.

 

Lysandre's heart fluttered. This little ball of cuteness was now his pride and joy. He smiled. "You too," he said softly.

 

 


End file.
